The Matter of Love Languages
by Notactiveanymore112
Summary: Re-Post 1-26-11: They're similar, yet vastly different, but they just fit. There's no explanation really, no clear reasons. They just are. They fit.


**Author's Note: **Hello! This is Kayla, Nik's sister. Well, she asked me to work on her fanfiction. Since she's off to school. I think she'll be going home before the 12th of February for her birthday. Until then, I'll be handling her account.

She said that I should look into her computer for some of her stories. And this is it. Not everything is here so I apologize.

* * *

Sarah Walker loves Chuck Bartowski, she really does. But sometimes, she feels out of her depth, awkward, like she's been singled out of this world, of romance for too long, and now that it's here, she finds it hard to find her groove.

She loves him, but she doesn't really know how to love him in the way he deserves, the way she thinks he wants to be. Sometimes, she wonders if it's better to be off alone, than to constantly keep second-guessing her, but then he turns to grin at her and whispers that he loves her.

Just like that she melts all over again, like she's always done, without fail, with him.

It's the way she's wired, she figures. She can no longer blame her insecurities on the fragile relationship with her father.

She's Sarah Walker, stunning, striking, charming and talented, but relationships aren't her forte.

Words aren't really her forte actually, being able to earn a chuckle or two at the dinner table. It comes down to the matter of love languages, really. The only way she knows how to express her devotion, is through touch, through a wink as a substitute for subtle flirtation, a smooth caress on Chuck's thigh as a teasing, a kiss with a little bit of herself given to him as a promise. It's just the way she is, but she knows that despite her alluring physical talents, there's a small part of Chuck that wants to hear her shout out at the top of her lungs, on a random street or at the roof of the Buy More, that she absolutely freaking loves him.

When you're in love, you learn to accommodate. But she's not familiar with this new language and feels a little awkward, embarrassed even, to speak something she's hardly fluent in.

She remembers Chuck's face when he told her a few months ago, that his mother is suspected to be part of Volkoff. Sarah understands what it's like to love and devote yourself to someone who just isn't bothered to love you back. Although she tried, telling him that she's going to be okay just doesn't suffice. So she walks up to him and envelopes him into a fierce hug, and allows his damp tears to stain her silk blouse. She can offer warmth and protection, but not assurance and promise, and it feels like she's failing somehow.

Last week, they picked a fight with each other, just because. She blurted out that playing Halo is pretty stupid and she can't win. Chuck forgot the he's dealing with a very competitive person, just shrugged. That left him on their couch until the following day. The next morning he told her that she's the most complicated person he knew, and that her shallowness was in fact adorable, and merely only a fraction of what's really there, and that he loves all sides of her, and that he's sorry.

She attempted to disguise her tears and gave him a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek.

She knows it meant forgiveness, love and I'm sorry too. She thinks he thinks it's just her way of avoiding confrontation, and cringes internally.

* * *

He knows, really, that she forgives him, loves him more than he ever thought he could be, and is sorry too.

She just doesn't know how to put it into words. He finds it adorable.

Besides, she doesn't quite have to, he already knows.

He already knows because whenever Ellie, Devon and Morgan come over for dinner, and Morgan made some comment about her past. Sarah will just squeeze his hand to let him know that it's ok.

He also knows because whenever the awkward topic of the former relationships is brought up, she rolls her eyes and places a delicate kiss on his neck, and snuggles up against him as the group relives their favorite couple.

He's sure and confident of her love, because when he accidentally burns his finger over the dinner he was cooking for her, she actually tears up a little and places a loving kiss, as well as a band-aid on his red-blistered finger.

It didn't hurt that much, but he pretended that it did, so that she could place feather light kisses around his jaw line when they're snuggled on the couch, eating pizza and soda, instead of a complicated casserole and glasses of wine.

Their love, once they got over the push and pull, is in fact, rather simple and effortless. It becomes a routine that he doesn't mind repeating, one he loves and enjoys reliving again and again and again.

Chuck Bartowski is a man of words, but as with his careful pronunciation of every syllable, he doesn't throw his words away. Every speech is well rehearsed, carefully planned, with scribbled notes on the side. His love language is in fact, words. His words aren't a weapon, a magical hold of some sort that doesn't always amount to substance or follow through. Chuck Bartowski's words, like the way he speaks, has meaning and is used solely to express his love for the stunning blonde in question.

Although she has been hurt by words before, with him, it's different.

* * *

"Sarah, babe, did we buy the grape sodas yesterday?" By saying we, he's saying that the responsibility of simple household chores that she loathes shouldn't just fall on her, it's their house now, and this means he is willing to share their responsibilities equally. It's not just a woman's job.

It's the requirements of a relationship. A growing foundation.

When she's upset with something, whether it be a off hand comment from Casey, the way her hair looks without the morning ritual wash, or even seemingly trivial things like missing the first ten minutes of her favorite TV show, he soothes her nerves with mumbles and mutters and she kisses him until she forgets. He apologizes for things that aren't really his fault. If only he drove a little faster from the store, she wouldn't have to wait for midnight re-runs, if he lowered the volume while playing some video games, then she wouldn't have gotten upset over the ruckus.

She knows those things are beyond his control, his love for her just transcends all things uncontrollable. He loves her his way. He's decisive and firm, and doesn't worry about the same things she does. Although she does love and cherish him above all things, she's also worried about how to love him right.

Again, it comes down to the matter of love languages. He understands her world, but she's shying away from his.

* * *

Sarah Walker shows and expresses her love. It was merely the only way she knew how to express a liking, adoration.

But with love feelings, she feels like her touch isn't quite enough.

Although Chuck Bartowski assures her with his language, time and time again, that it is.

Sarah Walker thought that Chuck Bartowski was invincible. There was a moment in time when she thought that there was nothing he couldn't do. Anyone who could wait so patiently and tenderly chipped away at her walls, piece by piece was a pretty epic person. Sarah sees her boyfriend as epic, but she would never ever say so, it's not her language to speak.

So when Chuck tells her about his mother, and the real reason why she left, it actually breaks her heart to hear that the confident man in front of her, one that she idolizes, is in fact a vulnerable, shy boy who is still silently begging to be loved.

It seems like they have more in common than they see, their strong love towards each other motivated by the utter failures of the generation before them.

As she comforts him the way she knows, taking his larger hand in hers, she realizes somehow for the first time that they're in fact, entwined.

So she takes that as an incentive to cross the boundaries of what she knows and what she's familiar with.

With Chuck, she feels like it's her responsibility to keep him safe, like it's what she needs to do. Without his strength, she'd be lost, so in a way, by giving him strength, or attempting to fix his broken-ness, she can manage to keep herself afloat too.

If he's not happy, she doesn't know if she'll ever want to be happy again.

So whilst she's fighting his battle for him, she realizes right then and there, that it doesn't matter really, if their love language contradicts, because she's trying now, to use words, although not directed at him, to convey her devotion and care.

* * *

In the end, it doesn't matter if she knows touch and he breathes words, because it doesn't make them love each other any less. If anything, Sarah's attempt at understanding his dialect proves just how much she loves him.

"Sarah, I don't need you to fight my battles for me, okay? God, I'm a grown man. I don't need my girlfriend to defend me."

Although a lesser man would feel slightly, and perhaps understandably emasculated by the act. He knows that it hurts Sarah to see him hurt, and he couldn't expect to tell her that story without assuming that she'll just meekly stand on the sidelines. It just shames him, somehow, that she may not see him as her protector anymore.

The hurt was reflected in her shaky eyes, and he instantly felt like an ass. He takes a firm step forward and engulfs her in a fierce hug, of apology, of love, of thanks. He mutters apologies into her hair, while her grip on his shoulders tighten. "I just, I didn't want to be weak with you Sarah." He's crying now, the few tears that escaped his lids only minutes before have turned into proper tears. Tears that Sarah usually sheds for him.

Tightening her hold on him, her heart breaking yet swelling at the same time over his trust in her, to be able to let her in behind the grown man he is now, to the young boy he used to be. If she knew him then, maybe she wouldn't have been so broken.

"You can be weak with me, you can be anything you want with me, and you know that?" Her voice was affirmative, commanding even. "I love you okay? And that means I love you as you, all the perfections, weaknesses, flaws, all of it."

He nods into the crook of her neck, breathing in the warm musk of honey and vanilla, not even attempting to salvage any ounce of masculinity he thought he might have lost.

Right then, they're entwined.

It's been a week or two since then. They're lying in bed, she's resting her head on his strong chest, drawing lazy, yet loving patterns on his white t-shirt. It's 3am, she guesses, by the silence of everything, but she doesn't feel tired. She doesn't want to fall asleep sleep without him. They're in sync in every way, and if he's having a case of insomnia tonight, then she's willing to stick it out with him, even if she'll have to use more make-up than normal tomorrow.

That's her sacrifice.

He presses a kiss to her head, and softly makes his way to her lips, earning a throaty moan of appreciation from her. As his tongue softly caresses hers, she giggles and gently pushes him away.

"I just want to lie here like this tonight, please?"

He feels so male for even alluding to that, and he complies by pressing another soft kiss on her lips and drawing her body even closer to his, their limbs tangling and entwining with each other.

They're similar, yet vastly different, but they just fit. There's no explanation really, no clear reasons. They just are. They fit.

Love languages be damned, it sets them apart, yet draws them together. They may speak differently, but their ideas are the same.

They love just fiercely.

Her voice interrupts his almost slumber, "you know, I would let you play with Morgan once in a while."

He chuckles. "And I would let you win on our Halo nights."

She smirks and settles on his chest, content with their negotiation.

That's what love is, she's sure of it now. There's no right way of loving Chuck Bartowski, what's important is that she does. She may have learnt the concept of sacrifice, giving, receiving and other things in between, but the non-complicated nature of them really just lies in the fact that she loves him. In every way he can be loved.


End file.
